Honestly being waited in is easier than waiting on a person. Those few minutes before the interview are normally more severe.
Sometimes we pray they could extend the time a little bit, so we could have more time to prep and most times we pray for the interviews time to be pushed forward so we could get it over with.
I could remember that Thursday morning. I was with my files in hand. The blue envelope which housed all my credentials. I could vividly remember my Mum's voice, as much as she tried to support me in her little way she didn't fail to remind me that working in a hospital wasn't the only part God had crafted out for me.
I was very skilled with my hands, any skill I learnt or I paid attention to, in six months I also became so good that the teacher wonders if I had been practicing for years.
But these fingers only wanted to hold a scalpel. I loved the feeling of nursing someone to health after they were almost dead. That feeling of being met with a challenge and the life of that person is literally in your hands.
I'm not trying to play God but I think at this point we tend to be in God's shoes for a minute. The statement "we treat, God heals" holds true.
I walked into the hospital the biggest hospital in the city and saw how everyone seemed busy. The way the nurses with their files in hand moved with speed and so laser focused. Even the cleaners were so focused with the blood stain on the floor.
It seemed an accident victim was just rushed into the building few moments before I stepped into the building.
I found my way to the waiting room, I was just a few minutes late and luckily enough after I came, soon after just in the matter of seconds, the team that was to conduct the internship acceptance interview walked in.
"Thank Goodness." I mouthed under my breath.
It was a competitive interview because given the fa t it was the biggest and the best hospital in the whole state, everyone was on their A game. You snooze, you lose.
As the meeting progressed for the first time, one of the professors seated there spoke up.
"Are you Nigerian?" He asked.
"Yes Sir, I'm Nigerian" I replied.
Given the popular nature of my country men, I thought I had lost my chance.
But funny enough, whenever I look at the professor, I see him with his eyes fixed on me. I quickly removed mine. I was wondering if a Nigerian had stolen his money online.
Soon after the interview ended, and the five participants were told to leave the room. We stood up about leaving the interview room.
"Wait!" The prof said. "It's Benjamin, right?" He asked looking at me.
"Yes Sir." I replied.
"We need only three interns, I pick you as my choice." He said as he stood up and left the room.
I stood their..I didn't even know if I should shout. In fact firstly, I tried to understand what he meant.
"Congratulations." One of the interviewer said with a smile on her face. "Since, prof chose you, you will specifically serve under him. That's a rare opportunity."
I walked out of the room and my mum was on my mind. I wanted to tell her that her prayers had worked. She had left early in the morning to the shop because some goods were coming in.
I picked my phone to call her and immediately I received a call from her.
"Speaking of the devil" I said out loud.
"Is this Mr. Benjamin?" The strange voice from the other end asked.
I checked my phone to see if it was really my mum name on the screen.
"Yeah, that's correct." I responded.
"Your mother was involved in an accident and is currently in the operating room."
It had happened that the accident victims that made it to the hospital few minutes before I did, my Mum was involved in the same accident and was rushed to the same hospital.
I rushed to the operating room and was greeted by a nurse who told me that the operating had already begun. That I should sit and wait for her.
From the interview waiting room to the operating room's waiting room.
"What a day" I said to myself.
I prayed for the first time in a long time. My mum was the prayer warrior but I wasn't. This time I had to be the prayer warrior.
What a day🙇🏿♂️🙇🏿♂️🙇🏿♂️
Thanks for stopping by friends.
